


Familiar Faces

by jojoandpicnic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Victuuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojoandpicnic/pseuds/jojoandpicnic
Summary: Seeing old friends is always a nice thing. Except when you realize that the person you're talking to isn't actually an old friend. Instead, they're your childhood idol.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm dying! I want my cough to go away so badly I can't even express to you how much I hate stupid ass colds!!!!!!!! ... Now that that's over, I feel it is important to note that this is inspired by [how Corbin Bleu met his wife](https://s3.amazonaws.com/theknot.com/optimizely/corbinandsasha.mp4).

Yuuri Katsuki was a simple type of person. He had come from a simple town in southern Japan called Hasetsu, had spent his days ice skating at the local rink for fun with his friend Yuuko, and had always dreamed of making his family proud. He kept his grades up and, after he graduated from high school, went to America to continue his studies. He met a lot of nice people in Detroit and still kept in contact with a few of them even though they were in a different country; one of his friends, Phichit, had gone back to his home in Bangkok after he had gotten his degree. Yuuri could confidently say he had many friends in many different places; it was his only break from the simplicity his life had held so far.

After he got his degree, he went back home to Hasetsu for some time, but ultimately moved to Tokyo to work at a computer software company there. While he missed his family, he knew they were only a six hour train ride away and, while that sounded daunting, he found it wasn’t too bad and made an effort to visit as often as he could.

He had gotten used to his routine in Tokyo. It was definitely much louder and hectic than Hasetsu had ever been, but Yuuri kind of liked it. There was almost a new surprise every day, wherever in Tokyo he went.

Case in point: that particular day, he saw somebody he recognized in a coffee shop. Tokyo was a big place filled with many Japanese people, some he knew and some he didn’t, but this person was a foreigner and Yuuri was shocked for a full five seconds that he actually recognized the guy. Though, it figures; the guy had platinum silver hair, was pretty tall, and drop dead gorgeous. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure _where_ he recognized him from or what his name was.

Without much preamble, Yuuri figured the guy would appreciate a familiar face in a foreign land. And, maybe if he talked to him long enough, he would remember which class they probably shared back in Detroit.

“Hey,” Yuuri greeted in English with a smile. “How are you?”

The man looked a little surprised, but some sort of flicker of recognition passed by his eyes. He smiled politely and replied, “I’m fine, thank you.” He had an accent Yuuri couldn’t quite place. “Just a little unsure of what to order. Reading Japanese is a lot harder than speaking it.”

Yuuri laughed. That was true. “I can help you.”

“Sure,” the man said, smile growing wider.

After the man’s drink had been ordered, they settled into small talk. Yuuri still couldn’t place the class they had shared, but the man didn’t bring it up, so Yuuri didn’t think too hard on it.

“I’m on a bit of a vacation now,” the man said. “Tokyo is quite the city.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement. “I know what you mean. When I moved here a year ago, it took some getting used to.”

“Oh? Where are you from originally?”

“Hasetsu; it’s in Kyushu. What about you?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “St. Petersburg.”

“Oh! That’s cool. From what I’ve seen in pictures, it’s a pretty nice place and-” Yuuri cut off with a chilling realization. “I don’t know you, do I,” he asked the man slowly.

The man gives him a look that makes him feel stupid. It’s not a judgemental look, but there’s something about it that tells Yuuri that there’s something really obvious and important that he’s missing. “No,” he says simply. “I’ve never met you before.”

Yuuri blushes and bows with a loud, “Sorry!” He rights himself and begins to ramble. “You looked familiar so I thought we’d met before. I’m really sorry! I went to school in Detroit, so this entire time I’ve been trying to remember what class we shared and - and - I’m really sorry for taking up your time.”

The man laughs loudly, the grin on his face bright and his eyes filled with such cheerfulness that Yuuri almost joins him in laughing. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m Victor, Victor Nikiforov.” Victor holds out his hand for Yuuri to shake, but all Yuuri wants to do is dig himself a hole and fall in it.

It’s like a light has been switched. Yuuri’s blush comes back full force and his hands start shaking. Everything makes sense, but at what cost? “Oh, my God,” he groans, facepalming; he wonders if he could possibly facepalm himself into oblivion. Victor’s head tilts to the side in a silent question. “I named my dog after you.” And then he immediately slaps the hand that had been on his forehead over his mouth because he _did not mean to say that_. “I mean! I - I was super into figure skating and I was twelve so I just-” Victor’s giggle cuts him off.

“What’s your name?” He looks at Yuuri like he never wants to look away again. 

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Yuuri,” he practically purrs. “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime within in the next two weeks?”

All Yuuri can do is nod dumbly.


End file.
